


Respite, with snacks

by twofrontteethstillcrooked



Series: Les Mis snippetfic [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Floof, M/M, Stray deer, snippetfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:19:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5865574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twofrontteethstillcrooked/pseuds/twofrontteethstillcrooked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Enjolras's eyes sprang open. Grantaire was kneeling beside and stretching an arm out over him. He wasn't, however, looking at Enjolras at all.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Respite, with snacks

The mild, green-scented breeze moving over Enjolras's body carried the slightest nip, a tell that autumn would be settling in soon, and all would decay. He kept his eyes closed.

"Is he asleep?"

"Shh, I don't know."

More quietly: "Oh. Are we _letting_ him sleep, then?"

"There's nothing else to do tonight; the police have cordoned off the capital building, and with the Frog Follies in town there won't be any good place to stage a protest."

"Well, no good place that wouldn't also cause a fucking riot."

An intrigued hum. "That sounds promising."

A chorus of no's. "We cannot afford to bail anyone else out this week."

"Who said I'd need you to bail me out? Have you ever known me to get caught?"

"Not the point."

A hissed gasp of delight: a complete change of topic. "Piiiiizzzzza."

There was a whoosh and pop of limbs and joints as like a single-functioning dry-land squid Courfeyrac, Bahorel, Prouvaire, and Feuilly clamored to their feet and ambled across the lawn, presumably in the direction of Combeferre laden with hot boxes of garlicy wonder. Enjolras stayed prone, sprawled, drifting near dream in the grass beneath the maple tree by the side gate. He felt the breeze lift his hair at his temple.

"Hi, baby," Grantaire cooed. 

Enjolras's eyes sprang open. Grantaire was kneeling beside and stretching an arm out over him. He wasn't, however, looking at Enjolras at all.

Enjolras turned his head. A young, freckled fawn, close enough to have caught a piece of Enjolras's sweater under its small hoof, was leaning, nose first, over Enjolras toward Grantaire.

"Don't move," Grantaire whispered. That, at least, was directed at Enjolras. Enjolras held his breath. The deer's nose touched Grantaire's palm, but, finding it empty, moved away again. 

"OH MY GOD," Joly said, and the deer dashed off into the field behind the yard like gunshots had rang out.

"Subtle," Grantaire said, letting his hand fall and laughing a little.

"Sorry, sorry," Joly squeaked.

"If that was dinner, we're screwed," Bossuet said. "Hallo, Enjolras, are you well?"

Enjolras sat up. "Just resting." Something damp flopped against his cheek.

"And being nibbled on by wildlife," Joly said, sounding amused now rather than terrified.

"Bossuet, did you bring cake?" Feuilly called from the picnic table.

"I did!" he called back happily. Then, more discreetly to those in closer proximity: "No one is to mention the egg incident, deal?"

Joly and Grantaire exchanged a look. "This is why you shouldn't bake under duress," Grantaire said.

"Yeah, yeah. Try to eat around the shells, okay?"

Joly and Bossuet picked up their communal cooler and headed to the others. Grantaire stayed, watching them for a moment.

Enjolras studied the field. "Didn't see you earlier," he said, before looking over at Grantaire.

Grantaire's eyebrow quirked. "No. Not my scene." His kept his eyes averted.

"It's not really a scene," Enjolras said.

"I know, it's more a whole two-acts-and-an-intermission production." Grantaire snorted softly. "Like a second-rate touring cast of some hackneyed Tony-nominee. Or a high school prom in a bad neighborhood."

It was bait, as tasty, perhaps, as Enjolras's hair had been to the fawn. But there were shadows under Grantaire's eyes, a defeated set to his shoulders. Enjolras stood up slowly, feeling the afternoon's threat of violence in the stiffness of his back, his legs. The sight of Grantaire's hunched shoulders made something tighten in his chest.

"You're welcome to join us next time," he said. "You're always welcome." 

Grantaire took a visible breath. When he stood as well, he seemed to take care not to bump into or reach for Enjolras. "I wasn't and won't be missed," he said, his voice flat.

"Maybe one day you'll miss us too much to stay away, then," Enjolras said, words tumbling from him more lightly than he meant them to. 

Grantaire looked at Enjolras for a long beat. A variety of expressions, none of which Enjolras could quite define, crossed his face. Enjolras held Grantaire's gaze. 

"Maybe," Grantaire conceded, finally, his fingers tucking Enjolras's damp curl behind his ear, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

The tightness in Enjolras's chest became something else. He stood very still and returned the smile.

**Author's Note:**

> do i remember writing this at some point last year? not really! but there are a lot of deer in my neighborhood these days, and the fawns are nosy as hell. besides which, they would absolutely find disney prince enjolras irresistible, so.


End file.
